


Cameo Lover

by greeneyes_softsighs



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Explicit Language, Fluff, M/M, Non-Binary Trowa, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeneyes_softsighs/pseuds/greeneyes_softsighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quatre meets his boyfriend's first love. 1+4, 1+3+4, 1+3</p><p>Essentially Quatre is dating Heero, who is still not over his first love.  And for some reason, Trowa always leaves.  What an asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cameo Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. 
> 
> Just wanted to let you guys know that throughout this ficlet Trowa is referred to by they/them/their pronouns. It gets a little confusing grammatically, but stick with it. I promise it will all be okay in the end.

Quatre loosens his school uniform tie while he waits at the bus stop across the street from 7-11. The plastic bag crinkles as it bumps up against his thigh, weighted down with a couple sodas, some chips and a packet of hot dogs. The guilt he felt about cutting his afternoon classes is slowly fading as the sun climbs high overhead and soon it disappears along with the shadows on the sidewalk. A couple gulls circle low, landing on a pile of trash bags by the curb, but before they can tear open the black plastic a motorcycle pulls up and they scatter.

“Heero!” Quatre jumps up and trots over to the older man on the motorcycle as he tugs off the helmet and shakes out a mop of dark brown hair. Quatre grins at his vehicle uneasily. “What happened to your car?”

“It’s at the beach already,” Heero holds the helmet out to Quatre and glances down at the plastic 7-11 bag. “Put this on. What’d you buy?”

“Just some soda and… hot dogs,” Quatre says, juggling the bag and the helmet for a moment before realizing what Heero meant. “Wait, someone else is coming?” Heero smirks, catching the tone of disappointment before Quatre saves face with a quick, “I mean, it’s cool. I’m sure they’re cool.”

“They are cool. You’ll like them,” Heero assures him, then crooks a finger and beckons Quatre closer for a quick kiss. “Now put on the helmet and hop on back.”

—-

The ride along the beach road is loud and windy, even with the helmet, and Quatre can feel the wind dragging at his limbs no matter how tightly he holds onto Heero’s middle. He can’t imagine how it must feel without a helmet, especially with Heero’s unruly hair. The heat is beginning to affect him, too, so close to Heero’s body with the sun beating down onto his naked arms and the back of his neck. The wind becomes somewhat of a relief, until they slow and pull into a small beach side parking lot.

Quatre hops off the bike feeling a bit numb. Before he can do it himself, Heero yanks off the helmet and leans in for another kiss.

“How was the ride? Did you like it?” He asks, giving Quatre the distinct impression that maybe Heero was trying to show off a little. The blond just laughs, offers a futile attempt at patting down Heero’s mess of hair, then follows him up the ramp to a set of benches where they leave their shoes. The younger boy feels overdressed in his uniform, especially since Heero is already ready for the beach in a simple green tank top and black cargo shorts. Quatre pulls off his uniform blazer, tie, and button down shirt, leaving them neatly folded as well. 

Heero leads Quatre down onto the beach and over to a pair of umbrellas poking out of the sand shading a big blanket weighed down with a cooler and Heero’s surfboard. There’s an unfamiliar bag there as well, with a dime store novel peeking out from under a wide brimmed sun hat beside it. That must be his friend’s. Was it a woman?

“Here, I’ll stick these in the cooler,” Heero mutters, grabbing the plastic bag from Quatre’s fingers. “There’s some beers, too. Trowa brought burgers so we can throw them on the grill later with the hotdogs.”

“Sounds good,” Quatre replies with a strained laugh, earning a suspicious look from over Heero’s shoulder.

“What’s up?” He asks, standing with two beers clutched in his hands. Quatre’s gaze immediately wanders to the grassy dunes, avoiding Heero’s interrogating stare. He shouldn’t feel jealous about the possibility of Heero having a lady friend, especially considering the type of relationship he has with Heero isn’t entirely conventional in the first place. It’s hard not to get possessive though, when the time he spent with Heero was so little now that school had started back up.

“Er… it’s nothing, really, Heero. Where’s your friend?” He clears his throat, growing fidgety under Heero’s continued stare until the serious boy sighs through his nose and looks around.

“There,” he points down the beach to a figure slowly approaching. “They must’ve gone for a walk while I was picking you up.” Quatre glances over and the figure raises thin arms, hailing them as a beach towel trails back from their hands like a flag in the wind. Heero answers with a wave just as a sudden, hard gust of wind blows one of the umbrellas out into the dunes, and Trowa’s beach towel escape’s their grasp and flutters into the waves.

Quatre laughs and Heero runs off to chase the umbrella.

 

—-

“So it’s your motorcycle?” Quatre asks with a giggle, laying out on the blanket beside Trowa. He’s facing the sky, finally stripped down to just trunks, and Trowa is propped on their elbows with the dime novel spread open on its broken spine in front of them. The wide brimmed sunhat droops over their eye, partially hiding one of the most beautiful faces Quatre has ever laid his eyes on. Trowa responds to his question with a gentle nod of their head and a smirk.

“Heero didn’t mention that?”

“No,” Quatre sighs, grinning fondly. “I think he was trying to show off a little.”

“Without a doubt,” Trowa says, clucking their tongue. “Better keep an eye on him out there. He’ll kill himself trying to get your attention.” Quatre sits up, scanning the waves until he spots Heero paddling out on his surfboard.

“That’s pretty funny. I wouldn’t really peg him as the type,” Quatre muses, glancing over at Trowa as they shift and sit up to watch Heero as well. They pull their sun hat off and plop it on Quatre’s head with a smile.

“How long have you known him?” Trowa asks, slipping their fingers through wet hair before tugging an elastic off their wrist to tie it back in a short tail.

“Uhm, I guess, like… four months now,” Quatre says, watching Trowa’s graceful arms rise and fall. He strokes a lock of blond hair behind his ear and returns his gaze to the water, better able to watch Heero catch a wave now that the sun was no longer in his eyes.

“Mmhm,” Trowa hums, wrapping an arm around Quatre’s shoulders. Their skin is sun-warmed and gritty, though no doubt smooth underneath the layer of sand. “And how old are you?”

“I’ll be eighteen next month,” Quatre replies, melting into Trowa’s casual embrace. Their cheeks would have touched, if it wasn’t for the sun hat, and Quatre would be perfectly fine with that. He’s a tactile person, doesn’t care a whit if people enter his personal space or if they touch him casually. In fact, he would have probably laid closer to Trowa if he’d known before it was okay. They were magnetic. Heero was right when he said Quatre would like them.

“Look!” Trowa says suddenly, startling Quatre as they point at Heero. The brunet is recklessly slicing across a wave in the distance. He disappears under a curl and comes out the other side just as it crashes down, wiping him out at the tail. Trowa jumps up and jogs to the edge of the surf, laughing into their hand as Heero’s surfboard bobs up to the surface and the man comes with it, sputtering. Quatre joins Trowa at the water, biting his lip with one hand desperately clutching the crown of the sun hat as the wind fluttered the brim.

“Did you see?!” Heero shouts while coughing up sea water, quelling any fears Quatre may have had and dissolving his frown into a helpless bout of laughter. Trowa just shakes their head and gives him a thumbs up.

——

Miraculously, the wind finally dies down as the sun starts to sink. Trowa carries the cooler, along with the beach bag full of their shoes and clothing, and Quatre trails behind them with the umbrellas and blankets on the way to the parking lot. Heero is already by his car strapping his surfboard to the top. The coals of the small tailgate grill are smoldering nicely, ready to cook up dinner.

“I’m starving,” Quatre complains while he and Trowa fold down the back seats of Heero’s hatchback and lay on the blankets there. Heero hops down from the roof with a grunt. He crouches by the cooler and fishes out the burgers and hot dogs from the ice.

“Me too,” Trowa whines, matching Quatre’s tone with more of a warble for effect. Heero simply turns to glare at them before ripping open the packages of meat and starting dinner. Quatre giggles and pulls Trowa against him, laying side by side in the back of Heero’s car with their legs dangling off the back. He nuzzles their neck and inhales the scent of salt water and warm skin.

“You’re so cuddly,” Trowa points out softly, and Quatre pulls away apologetically.

“Sorry, I just… wanna touch you,” he hesitates with the truth, but feels compelled to just admit it anyway. Something about Trowa’s cool green gaze demands honesty. He frowns slightly when Trowa laughs, wrapping their arm around his middle.

“No, I like it,” they assure him quietly, nuzzling Quatre’s neck just as the blond had done to them. “I don’t mind.” The boy sighs and returns the hug tightly, curling a leg around Trowa’s thigh as well. He dares to nip at Trowa’s lips and earns a soft inhale and peck on the mouth from them.

“Just kill me now,” Heero deadpans from the mouth of the trunk, holding a pair of tongs. The pair glances over at him and Quatre offers a sheepish grin. “This is the cutest thing I have ever witnessed. I can die now.”

“Okay, but finish cooking dinner first,” Trowa returns just as dryly. Heero’s lips quirk up slightly and he gives Quatre a look, asking, Can you believe this asshole?

“Don’t look at me!” Quatre laughs, biting his lip to try and keep a straight face. “I’m with Trowa on this one.”

“Oh no, what have I done?” Heero mutters, glancing up at the sky in hopelessness. “God help me. I’ve created a monster.”

“Mmhm…” Trowa untangles from Quatre and sits up. “Come ‘ere.”

Heero shuffles between their knees obediently and they kiss. It’s slow, languid, and ignites a fire in Quatre’s belly that heats his body hotter than the afternoon sun. Just that morning he would never have imagined watching Heero kiss another person so tenderly would stir up such feelings, but now it was as if Trowa had always been with them. Somehow they were perfectly compatible, and it warmed Quatre to see how strongly the emotions flowed between the two. 

—-

“… miss you…” Quatre wakes to muffled voices in quiet conversation just outside the car window. He is warm, wrapped in the blankets from the beach with his head pillowed on the roll of his school clothing.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Trowa says. “I’ll let you know when I come back to visit. We should do this again.”

“Quatre will be sad,” Heero replies. Quatre peeks out the window and notices Heero’s hand gripping the hem of Trowa’s shirt. The fabric is delicate, somewhat transparent, and greatly contrasts with the leather jacket slipped over it.

“Really? He has you,” Trowa chuckles, gently taking Heero’s fingers and prying them apart. It is hard, even for them, but eventually Heero just gives up and lets go. Trowa clasps his hand loosely between their own. “And you have him now.”

“You can stay with me,” Heero offers, ignoring the other’s words.

“You like living alone,” Trowa scoffs.

”…”

“What?”

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Trowa.”

“Mm… tell me something I don’t know, Yuy.” 

Quatre swallows and presses a hand against his chest. The desperate look on Heero’s face, his posture, is absolutely heartbreaking. He kicks off the blankets and hurriedly jumps out of the car just as Trowa starts up their bike. The blond boy sidles up next to Heero and wraps an arm around his waist, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“Good bye, Trowa!” He says cheerily. Trowa gives him a nod and smiles, glancing over at Heero warily, but it seems like the shorter man’s done with his say in the matter.

“It was nice to meet you, Quatre,” they say. “Take care of this one for me, okay?”

“Will do,” Quatre chimes in as Trowa slides their helmet on. They give one last wave before zooming out of the parking lot, leaving Heero and Quatre standing silently by the car in the cool morning light.

——

“Heero…”

“What?” His tone is clipped, angry. They are sitting in the parking lot of a McDonalds eating some breakfast sandwiches before Heero drops Quatre at home. 

“Trowa’s an asshole for leaving us,” the blond mutters, thinking back on the previous day. How fun it had been to learn more about Heero from Trowa’s stories. To just cuddle with them. He fiddles with a ketchup packet until a loud sniff alerts him to Heero’s sudden tears. The man is frowning deeply at his breakfast sandwich, wiping his cheeks with a napkin.

“Yeah. Yeah… ” he agrees, swallowing hard before ripping into his sandwich.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Now imagine Heero taking teenage Trowa out on the beach to wear their adorable sweater/maxi skirt combo for the first time in public.


End file.
